Living London - By Kristin Vayden Page 0,31

it, and he said that you would have turned him down, even if it meant forgoing the rest of the dances for the evening. He actually looked hurt as he spoke the words. I don't know him very well, so it could all be an act, but based on what I said next, I think he might be authentic in his affections."

"What happened next?" Amelia whispered, frozen in her attentive position.

"I don't remember the exact words, but it was something about him being braver."

Her eyes widened in shock. "You told Lord Heath to be braver?"

"Yes. And he asked you to dance, if you remember."

"I don't believe it."

"What part?"

"All of it."

"It's the truth, Amelia," I offered gently.

"That's what I'm afraid of," she said softly.

****

As I entered the Langton's ball, I searched furiously for Amelia. I found her grinning behind her gloved hand at something Lord Rake had said. With a smirk, I walked over to where she stood. I was her wingman tonight, her moral support, and I wasn't about to shirk my duty.

"Good evening, Miss Westin." Lord Rake spoke in his honeyed tones. I hoped Amelia was on her guard. His voice alone could melt the North Pole. With a polite nod he turned his attention back to Amelia. He wasn't playing the arrogant cad, but more of the devoted gentleman. His manners were perfectly respectable, and he didn't give off the bad boy vibe nearly as strongly. If I were a betting woman, I'd say he even dressed for the occasion, with lighter and more muted colors.

The night promised to be entertaining as I watched Amelia genuinely smile in Lord Rake's direction. Yes, interesting indeed.

Feeling like the third wheel, I extracted myself from Amelia, who seemed to be doing well. In fact she had hardly taken her eyes off of Lord Rake long enough to say a quick hello. The smile she gave me as I walked away alleviated any guilt I would have tried to carry with me. No, I wasn't abandoning her. I was giving some space. As the evening progressed, I continued to check in with Amelia, but she was content to speak with Lord Heath. So I danced with a new gentleman each set, but never with the one person I hoped would ask me. My gaze kept straying to the entrance. I wondered if he perhaps hadn't been invited or had decided not to come to this particular party.

"Miss Westin?" said an elderly voice from behind me. Turning, I saw an overfed gentleman with clothes that looked uncomfortably tight.

"Yes?" I answered, dubious. Oh, please do not ask me to dance. It was clear he wasn't of the grandfather variety, more of the dirty old man variety. I took an involuntary step back.

"May I have the honor of this dance?"

No, go ask someone your own age or at least within twenty years of it. "Of course, Lord..?" I trailed off, waiting for him to supply his name.

"Lord Haymore, at your service." He bowed, but his eyes lowered and leered over my body. Shivering with disgust, I tried to control my gag reflex. Eww, nasty. Not happening, you dirty old man.

He led me onto the dance floor and, to my utter misery; the strains of a waltz began to play. This is not happening. His breath reeked of sour alcohol, and he definitely didn't have a dental plan. Desperate to keep the proper distance between our bodies, I fought as he constantly tried to pull me in closer. When I spoke he glanced up at me, but otherwise he blatantly stared at my breasts.

"I knew your grandfather, you know," he stated proudly.

"Is that so?" I asked, trying to inhale as little as possible as his breath continued to poison my limited air supply. Meaning you're old enough to be him? I wanted to interject, reminding him of our vast age difference. I could never be a gold digger. Good thing I was wealthy.

"Yes, I'd love to speak with you about him. Wanted our families united." His eyes dipped lower again, and he tried to drag me closer into his body. Straining against his unwanted advances, I stepped on his toe, hard.

"Oh, please forgive me. I seem to be so clumsy tonight." I spoke harshly, hoping he'd take my hint.

"Perhaps you simply need a breath of fresh air? I'll escort you outside in the gardens after our waltz. It will be sure to—" He paused as he leaned down to smell me. "—alleviate any tension, and relax